Randolph, Thomas · published 1632 · first performed or written 1632 [Mar 20] (Annals) comedy · before the Court unassigned nearest T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and · 499 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
Nor is she one of these That haunt the springs the beauteous Naiades. Nor Flora, Lady of the field is she. Nor bright Pomona the Orchards deity. No, she is none of these. Oh then prepare To hear her blessed name. 'Tis Phryne fair. Phryne the fair? Oh peace! if this be she, Go forth, and sing the world a lullaby. For thy dear sake in whom is all delight, I will no more the trembling nations fright With bellowing drums, and groans of slaughtered men. My father brings the golden age again. Pardon me, dreadful deity of war, 'Twas love of you that forced me from my sphere, And made me leave my Orb without her influence, To meet you in the fury of the fight Sweating with rage, and reeking in the blood Of wretches sacrificed to the Stygian flood. Come forth thou horrid instrument of death. Do you hear him, Sir? ay, to my comfort Ballio. I will dispeople earth, and drown the world In crimson floods, and purple deluges. The old, the young, the weak, the lusty wight, Soldiers and scholars, fair and foul together, Men, women, children, infants, all shall die. I will have none survive that shall have left Above one eye, three quarters of a face, And half a nose. I will carve legs and arms As at a feast. Henceforth to all posterity Mankind shall walk on crutches. Cruel Mars! Let the conjunction of my milder star Temper the too malignant force of thine. The drum, the fife, and trumpet shall be turned To lutes, and citherns. We will drink in helmets, And cause the soldier turn his blade to knives To conquer capons, and the stubble goose: No weapons in the age to come be known, But sword of Bacon, and the shield of Brawn. Deign me a kiss, great Warrior. Hogsheads of Nectar Are treasured in the warehouse of her worth. That kiss hath ransomed thousands from the grave. Let me redeem more thousands with a second. Rage melts away. I pardon half the world. O let me kiss away all rigour from thee. Live mortals, live. Death has no more to do. And yet methinks a little rigour's left. Thus shall it vanish. Vanish rigour, vanish. Harness the lions, make my chariot ready: Venus and I will ride. How? drawn by lions? ay, thou shalt kiss 'em till their rigour vanish (As mine has) into air. I will have these play With Ounces, Tigers, and the panther's whelp, As with a Squirrel. bears shall wait on thee, And spotted Leopards shall thy Monkeys be. Sit down my Queen, and let us quaff a bowl: Seest thou, my Phryne, what a fair retinue I have provided thee? These for thy defence 'Gainst any Lady rivals thee in beauty. And these on all occasions shall vent forth Swelling Encomiums,— Say Bomolochus, How sings my Mistress? The Grasshopper chants not his Autumn choir So sweet, nor Cricket by the chimney fire.
seed 43: T53 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Nor is she ofe of these That haunt the springs the beauteous Naiades. Nor Flora, Lady of the field is she. Nor bright Pomona the Orchards deitie. No, she is none of these. Oh then prepare To heare her blessed name. 'Tis Phryne fair. Phryne the fair? Oh peace! if this be she, Go forth, and sing the world a lullabie. For thy deare sake in whom is all delight, I will no more the trembling nations fright With bellowing drummes, and grones of slaughter'd men. My father brings the golden age again. Pardon me, dreadfull deitie of warre, 'Twas love of you that forc'd me from my sphere, And made me leave my Orbe without her influence, To meet you in the fury of the fight Sweating with rage, and reeking in the bloud Of wretches sacrific'd to the Stygian floud. Come forth thou horrid instrument of death. Do you heare him, Sir? I, to my comfort Ballio. I will dispeople earth, and drown the world In crimson flouds, and purple deluges. The old, the young, the weak, the lusty wight, Souldiers and scholars, fair and foul together, Men, women, children, infants, all shall die. I will have none survive that shall have left Above one eye, three quarters of a face, And half a nose. I will carve legs and arms As at a feast. Henceforth to all posteritie Mankinde shall walk on crutches. Cruell Mars! Let the conjunction of my milder starre Temper the too malignant force of thine. The drumme, the fife, and trumpet shall be turn'd To lutes, and citherns. We will drink in helmets, And cause the souldier turn his blade to knives To conquer capons, and the stubble goose: No weapons in the age to come be known, But sword of Bacon, and the shield of Brawn. Daigne me a kisse, great Warriour. Hogsheads of Nectar Are treasur'd in the warehouse of her worth. That kisse hath ransom'd thousands from the grave. Let me redeem more thousands with a second. Rage melts away. I pardon half the world. O let me kisse away all rigour from thee. Live mortalls, live. Death has no more to do. And yet me thinks a little rigour's left. Thus shall it vanish. Vanish rigour, vanish. Harnesse the lions, make my chariot ready: Venus and I will ride. How? drawn by lions? I, thou shalt kisse 'um till their rigour vanish (As mine has) into aire. I will have these play With Ounces, Tigers, and the Panthers whelp, As with a Squirrel. Beares shall wait on thee, And spotted Leopards shall thy Monkies be. Sit down my Queen, and let us quaff a bowl: Seest thou, my Phryne, what a fair retinue I have provided thee? These for thy defence 'Gainst any Lady rivals thee in beauty. And these on all occasions shall vent forth Swelling Encomiums, —Say Bomolochus, How sings my Mistresse? The Grashopper chaunts not his Autumne quire So sweet, nor Cricket by the chimney fire.